Authors: Jennifer O'Donnell
"Ohhh, baby," I uttered
lustfully. "Did you like how I licked your asshole?" The crudeness of
my words excited me.
"Jeez," he exclaimed with
astonishment. "You like that?"
"I love it," I said, with
blatant honesty. "It's so nasty when you do me there." This was a
true confession of my growing curiosity about anal sex. My limited experiences
had been rushed and painful. Our gradual explorations had aroused rising
interest in adding this to our play. "You want my finger in your ass,
while I blow you?" I knew he did, but I wanted to say it, to make it
explicit. His wife was shedding inhibitions and inviting darker desires.
He continued to stroke. Leaning
forward, breathing deeply through his open lips, he poked his cock into my
mouth. His thrusting brought his clenched fist to my lips. I stayed touching
his hand with my lips and bobbed in synchrony with his strokes. His cockhead
flared mightily in my mouth. My tongue swirled and caressed. He was close.
He released his grip and held my
head. He plunged deep into my throat. Even though I wanted it and expected it,
the depth was extreme, and I gagged somewhat as he entered my throat. I knew I
was getting better at deep throating him and took pride in this developing
skill. I tried to relax and accommodate the throat fucking. He withdrew and
saliva streaked his cock and my chin. Some dripped to my tits. He did it again
and I was more ready. Retracting, he grasped his cock and flipped it across my
face. Like scolding an errant child, he gently but firmly slapped my face with
his wet cock. My mouth was open now as I took deep breaths. "Just like my
cunt," I thought as he teased his slut's mouth. His cock was hot on my
face and he rubbed my cheeks and forehead. I obediently waited with open lips
for him to plunge deep again. He saw my gaping mouth and entered. He went so
deep that I felt his hot balls flick on my chin. My lips pursed tightly around
the hairy base of his shaft. With more practice he will be able to penetrate to
the hilt forcefully.
He pulled off and I knelt before
him lost to everything but his churning balls and dazzling cock. My throat felt
raspy. "There's some-one below, on the dune," he reported.
"I don't give a fuck," I
replied hoarsely. I swallowed and cleared my throat.
"It looks like that
couple," he announced, "from the beach." I turned to check.
Squinting my eyes tightly to regain color vision, I spied the brunette girl and
her man. They were close enough for me to see his hard cock. He was leading her
to a spot below the crest of the first dune.
We were well beyond any attempt to
seek privacy. For me, an audience heightened my horniness. The public and
exhibitionist stories had captured my interest. Being watched now whet my
appetite for nastiness. "Come on my face, my king," I implored, as I
knelt and awaited his come. He stroked faster now, and I licked and tasted the swollen
tip flicking at my face.
I opened my mouth for him and
hovered inches from his flashing strokes. His balls were high and tight. I
played with my clit with one hand and cupped his balls with my other. My index
finger rested on his slippery anus. I pressed it in. His entire body strained
as he furiously brought himself closer to the explosive point. His balls flayed
vigorously with his speedy strokes. I both felt and saw the first spurt. Some
landed in my mouth; some spewed hotly on my cheek and forehead. A ropy string
streaked across my hair. His anus tightened around my finger. The seed that
landed in my hair dripped to my shoulder. The next spurt was more massive. It
shot mightily from his slit and painted my eyebrows, nose and lips. I fucked
into his ass and massaged his prostrate as he splattered me. The next surge was
better aimed to fall mostly in my mouth. His exclamations must have been heard
by the couple. The sound was guttural, animal, and explosive. I knelt
obediently as my king spilled his abundant seed. I came as well, more from
seeing his explosion than from my rubbing my clit.
His body relaxed and wilted in the
heat. I swallowed, and the cream coated my throat. The hardness of his cock
softened slightly. He rubbed it across my face, smearing his come and catching
some on his shaft. He offered it to his cum-slut. Like remnants of cream
dripping along a softening banana, I accepted the offering. I captured every
bit, and he withdrew from my lips to capture more from the gobs streaking my
face. He gathered most this way, but some dropped to streak my chest and tits
with musky splatters. His majesty watched me swallow his seed. He tugged
forcefully from the base to the tip to extract the last drops. These were not
spilled in the sand. Each drip joined the gobs coating my mouth and throat. I
swallowed much of it and savored the flavor. The taste and scent remained
strong on my tongue and in my airways. My finger slipped from his ass.
Softly he held his dick to my
mouth. I suckled it to enjoy the softening smoothness of his shaft. His balls
hung quite low now. Releasing his cock, it dropped happily to drape before his
sagging empty sack. Perhaps stretched by my suction and his forceful strokes,
his cock looked inches longer than usual when soft. It seemed thicker as well.
I took in the sight of him on top of the dune. His skin glowed and his tan was
deeper. His drained cock hung low pointing wearily towards the sand. I loved
how he looked.
I rose from my knees. They were
sandy and a bit sore. Rubbing them restored circulation. I moved behind him and
clung close. Pressing my tits to his back and my mound to his taut butt, we
merged as a solitary figure on the crest of the dune. Below on the sloping side
of the first dune, the guy from the beach lay sprawled on his back. His cock
was in the girl's mouth. Her brunette hair hung over her face and draped his
belly.
I reached forward and touched along
my king's cock. The tip was slick, and I gathered a last taste. The arm of the
girl below was rhythmically moving in harmony with her bobbing head. We watched
them now serving as their audience. She moved into a 69 position. It seemed
unlikely they were still aware of us.
The king and I began our procession
back to the beach. We cut an arc as best we could away from the couple. She
lifted and flicked her hair back. Looking up, she saw us and briefly caught my
eyes before resuming her blow job. I was glad that she, too, was unashamedly
doing her man. I like to think she smiled as her lips pursed around his cock.
My king led me through the dunes
back to the beach. We passed our towels and dropped the beach bag we had used
to conceal his hard on. Proceeding to the water we were not able to escape
interaction with strolling bathers. The idea of someone seeing my come streaked
body occurred to me as we passed by reclining couples on our way to the sea.
The idea of meeting someone this way led me to slow our progress. Like war
paint, the streaks professed by my daring and skills were evident on my cheeks,
forehead and tits. Near the water's edge, we encountered another couple. They
were older, perhaps late 30's, and quite tanned. I guessed they were frequent
guests at the beach. We stopped to chat about the day. They did not react to my
appearance. I stood demurely by my king's side. I silently laughed at the
thought of displaying his come streaks as a badge of merit. The couple chatted
nonchalantly with deliberate inattention to my war paint. They sauntered on and
when out of earshot we giggled about the encounter.
"Is my face smeared?" I
asked turning to permit his inspection.
"Oh, Jeez," he exclaimed
"your face has smears, but more visible are tangled drips in your
hair!" "Your seed, my lord," I said, as I felt the knotted hair.
The drying patches on my tits might be confused for salt spray, but somehow I
doubted the couple was clueless.
"The brunette in the dunes is
surely joining the ranks of painted ladies," I confided to the king. He
laughed heartedly.
We swam out and I bathed in the
cleansing sea. The come washed off my face and tits easily. It took some
rubbing to extract the melted gobs in my hair. I asked my king to again inspect
his maiden. He deemed that I had indeed rinsed his seed.
We returned to the towels for more
tea and some fruit. The flavors of sex weakened and were masked, but they
lingered. For the rest of the day and evening I enjoyed after-tastes that
reminded of the creamy volcano on the dune.
It grew late, and the sun’s arc
descended behind us. We gathered our things and began to walk slowly towards
the car. I tied my hair back with a scrunchie. Remaining nude, we strolled
along the water's edge. I observed with satisfaction that his cock still hung
thick and low. Perhaps my blow jobs were developing my king's magnificent tool,
like my Keel exercises strengthened my cunt. I smiled at the possibility, not
that I needed more motivation to exercise both.
We moved to the edge of the
unpatrolled beach and reluctantly donned clothing only when going any farther
would reveal our nakedness to the eyes of kids. I again left my dress
unbuttoned low to reveal a plunging neckline. Exiting the beach, we could tell
that some eyes followed us with knowing glances.
At the car, we loaded our things
for the drive home. I curled contently on the seat. I knew I had the look of
being fucked to exhaustion. My king looked depleted. We decided to stop at a
rustic clam shack for dinner. The place was crowded and we waited for a vacant
table. I noticed that people checked us out. Our glowing tans and relaxed
demeanor seemed somehow different than the sun baked and frenetic movements of
the tourists. My king's faded shorts and casual top complimented his easy
movement among his people. I guessed that my thin sundress draped my nude form
seductively and appropriately conveyed my role as head concubine. I fastened
one more button in a generally unsuccessful attempt to cover my cleavage.
We had fresh fish and a few beers
each. The beers took charge of me as I was dehydrated. Needing to pee, I
slipped to the ladies room. There was a line that I joined. Waiting, I was
surprised when the brunette girl exited the bathroom. We were both startled and
recoiled momentarily. She wore a cropped tee and short skirt which suggested
nothing was beneath. She halted as the next in line entered the room. I broke
the silence and offered "Great day at the beach!" She nodded
knowingly as we stood in the crowded corridor.
"Great views from the
dunes," she admitted as she tossed her hair back.
"Gorgeous beach" I
agreed.
"I really need to get home and
shower off all this sand," she shared as she ran her hand along her
slender arm and dislodged fine grains. "I'm covered in it." Our eyes
flashed as we both knew what else we had been covered with. Her eyes twinkled
as she extended her hand. "My name is Sharon."
"Jill," I replied, as we
shook hands. "Maybe we'll run in to each other again."
"I hope so," she said.
"I need to run. We got take-out and he's waiting in the car. Bye."
She slipped away to their car, and I used the bathroom.
Returning to our table, I chose not
to describe my chance encounter with the blow job brunette. Something about her
troubled me. How she was rubbing her arm felt somehow flirtatious. Was it a
signal to me? Or was it an offer to my king and I for some rendezvous back with
her and her man? Maybe the beers clouded my judgment. I kept my silence.
We got home near sunset and went
immediately to shower. It felt good to rinse off the sand and salt. I shampooed
my hair to rinse any remaining conditioner spewed by my king. After drying, I
applied lotion all over my glowing body. My tan was very deep now, and the
lotion soothed my burning skin. My king also enjoyed my thorough lotion
massage. He was slightly sunburned. I applied lotion everywhere to cool his reddened
skin. Nude, we cuddled on the couch and watched some movie. I dosed off. Waking
before the late news, we went to bed and slept on top of the sheets.
We slept late that Sunday. Somewhat
groggy and dehydrated, we dressed for a breakfast at a local favorite hangout.
He wore a soft top and shorts to ease rubbing on his tender skin. We decided to
avoid the sun. I wore a short skirt and thin top. Breakfast replenished our
energy. We browsed some shops and let the day slip away.
Back at the house by-mid afternoon,
we slipped off our clothes and lounged nude on the bed. I massaged him and
tended his reddish areas with more lotion. He basked under my attention. The
bottle of lube was on the nightstand, and I used it to oil his cock and balls.
He spread his legs and lay back lazily on the bed. I oiled my hands and gave
him a gentle hand job as we talked. There was no rush, so I played slowly, and
we talked about the upcoming week.
He'd learn more about his job
options. We let ourselves dream about directions this might take. I admitted
that I would be excited for a change. My school would get by without me, and
new directions might be exciting. He was re-assured by my flexibility. Idly I
toyed with his cock as we talked. Blending our eroticism with the seriousness
of possible life changes ahead comforted me.
"My king," I intoned as I
waved his cock like a flag pole flying over a palace. The sexuality that had
come to dominate my summer was good in so many ways. Our time on the bed made
that clear to us.
He shifted on the bed. I had him
roll over onto his stomach and checked his back for sunburn. Staying out of the
sun for awhile was a wise decision. His burn was mild, but more sun would be
damaging. I oiled his ass and massaged his balls and behind them. He spread to
accommodate my reach. Once again, I thought how and where I would shave him.
I massaged him as he rested. His
eyes were shut, and he absorbed my attention. I oiled my cunt as I caressed
him. We would fuck before he left. I wanted it maybe more than he.